One of my new work duties is hosting Twitter chats every couple of weeks. Mom, Twitter is where you talk back and forth to other people in 140 characters or less. Next week’s lesson will be on hashtags.

Yesterday’s #BlogHerTalks chat was about hair. We talked about natural hair, colored hair, over-treated hair, shrimp gumbo, shrimp scampi, and cocktail shrimp. Wait…

Although I’m a woman, and I have hair, I didn’t have much to offer style-wise to the conversation, because my hair mostly looks like this:

Don’t be jealous.

The fact is, I have very fine, thin hair, so I don’t like to over-treat it. Plus, I work from home so I don’t have a need to impress people with my locks. Thank goodness.

But, occasionally I like to put some effort into it. With summer coming, I know my hair will be in a pony-tail more than ever. Can you say hot-flashes? So I searched for a way to make my plain-Jane-pony a little less boring and I found this.

I followed the advice and styled my hair in about three minutes (see aforementioned fine, thin description…I can practically fit all of my tresses in a curling iron at one time).

What do you think? I mean, besides the fact that I need a dye job.

Other bloggers are choosing their favorite hairstyle tutorial videos and asking for your opinions on which you love most. Each week, BlogHer is giving away prizes to 3 lucky winners: one grand prize viewer will receive a $250 Visa gift card and two more folks will each receive a $100 Visa gift card! Visit the Prizes and Promotions page on BlogHer.com for more info!

Hair Sweepstakes Official Rules.

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Here’s what I could tell you; that my job entails the reading of hundreds of blog posts and articles online every day, and all day Monday I read about the Steubenville rape case. All day. By Monday night I felt like my brain weighed a million pounds and I considered never going online again. Then I remembered that this story would have never been told if it weren’t for a blogger who fell into the roll of investigative journalist. Bloggers rule. I think I’ll stick around.

I could tell you that we spent hours worrying about our nephew yesterday when we found out his Marine unit was involved in a deadly accident in Nevada. We were not one of the families devastated by news that their Marine was killed. Ours is alive, but he will have to deal with the pain of losing his good friends.

Shamelessly stolen from his Facebook photos. I don’t care. I only care that he is alive.

Of course, if I told you about all of that, I’d have to mention that the torture of not knowing whether he was okay took me back to August, 2005 when we waited for word on another nephew who was stationed in Iraq. He, too, is still alive, but he lost even more friends.

I could tell you how I feel guilty for not being a better aunt to them. I should have sent letters and care packages, and I should tell them that we pray for them every day, that we love them, and that I understand what has happened to them means they will never be the same again. Ever. It makes my heart hurt.

I might say that I’ve been worried about my cancer-surviving sister doing well as she reenters the workforce, that I have no idea how we’re going to pay for private school tuition, and that I fell HARD off the juice-fast wagon. I blame the leprechaun.

I could mention that the first day of spring is really just another day of winter, that my husband has lost his ever-loving mind because he’s considering the purchase of a puppy, and that I don’t want to live in my house right now because it’s such a mess.

Or, I could just show you this magazine insert that my son was using as a bookmark until he told me it was “distracting” him.

Clearly, he still like arms.

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Since the 60-day Fitness Challenge has ended, I’ve decided that I need a new goal. Sure, I have a 5K coming up, but that’s not until September. According to my trainer, I should be able to run a 10K by then. Though, this is the same guy who thinks it’s perfectly normal for people to be in pain so severe they can’t straighten their arms.

We know I can do the vegan thing. It’s been over a year that I removed animal products from my diet in order to lower my cholesterol without meds.

I’ve been told the next step in my journey to good health (and pretty much the sole reason why I haven’t lost much weight) is giving up wheat. This won’t be easy for me. And, to be clear, removing beer from my diet is not on the table. I’m talking about cereal, bread, tortillas, but not beer. M’kay?

In addition, I’m bored with what I’ve been able to do with fruits and vegetables. It’s time to mix things up, so to speak.

Some people are going to think I’m crazy, and by “some people” I am specifically referring to my husband. But, this juice machine is going to be my new best friend.

If my friends and family think I’m a pain in the butt because I’m a vegan, just wait until I tell them that I’m drinking nothing but juice for the next 10 days! Oh, and water. And, coffee. And, beer. But, other than that…just juice! *cue jazz hands*

The idea behind this challenge is to make sure I’m getting the nutrients I need by infusing my dietary intake with new flavors and combinations and do it at the same time that I’m trying to give up wheat. Maybe I won’t miss it as much that way.

After 10 days, I will continue to drink juice and slowly add in beans, rice, nuts, and oats.

This morning’s breakfast was delicious! Red pepper, carrots, lemon, and grapefruit. Those gritty things at the top of the glass are chia seeds which I added for protein. Sprouted green hair coming out of my head will just be a bonus.

So, wish me luck! I’m going to need it once my husband finds out that I bought a juicer!

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The Scene: 8th Grade Girls vs. Moms Basketball Game, Sometime Before I Did a Deep-Lunge and Traveled at the Same Time

The Culprit: Happy New Year Cardboard Horn for Use in Cheering for Mom’s Team

The Victim: My 10 Year-Old Son, Previously of Putting-His-Teeth-Through-His-Chin Fame and Known for Stopping a Skateboard with His Face

The Incident: A Fall While Holding the Horn in His Mouth, and a Traumatic Injury to the Uvula

The Result: Advil for Both of Us and an Extra Serving of Zoloft for Mom

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